February 28, 1972

The late sixties and early seventies were fertile hunting ground for cults. Hare Krishna’s invaded airports and the streets of Westwood swarmed with friendly Scientologists offering students a “free” personality test. My night with the Moonies was my closest encounter with a genuine cult. At least twenty devoted disciples shared sleeping-bag space in a large room. I’ve repressed specifics about the bathroom facilities, but it’s a safe bet personal privacy wasn’t top priority.

Krishna girl selling book at LAX
Krishna girl selling book at LAX

I must have completely forgotten who I was, when I accepted the invitation. Growing up PK meant growing up in the heart of my father’s congregation, fine people I can’t complain about. Still, as kind and generous as they were, I felt itchy and uncomfortable much of the time.  It’s not religion that bothers me – I’m pro-religion – the trouble is that it’s frequently packaged with a group.

Joyce and Eric Onstad in a skit at Clairemont Lutheran in San Diego - Joyce was always much better in groups than me.
Joyce and Eric Onstad in a skit at Clairemont Lutheran in San Diego – Joyce was always much better in groups than me.

I prefer people in small doses. One or two at a time, maybe as many as half a dozen. Ten, twenty, forty, a hundred? Get me out of here, I can’t breathe.  I feel more alone in groups than I ever have when I’m alone.

Alone - the way I like it.
Alone – the way I like it.

All that said, I still plan to brave my Wilcox reunion this fall.